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My head’s spinning. It’s like when Kylie Elfman taught me about mirror-mode selfies. Call me a dumbass, but it legitimately

hadn’t occurred to me that there was a reason my selfies looked different from my mirror reflection. And that the girl I knew

from mirrors wasn’t quite real. She was an inversion of real.

That’s exactly how it feels. Everything I knew about Walter and Hayden was its own flipped mirror image, and it’s actually

making my brain melt. The boys are walking me back to my dorm, even though it’s just across the street. Probably for the best,

though. My mind’s so stuck on what Walter just told me, I barely know where I’m walking.

“How many people know the true story?” I ask.

“I guess—” Walter bites his lip. “I mean, that’s the thing. I’m sure Hayden has his own version of the truth, where I’m the

villain.”

“You’re not the villain,” Mark says.

He smiles a little. “I hope not. I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I’ve only told a handful of people. You two, Annie, my cousins.

Um, a few of my YouTuber friends. My friend Eli from school. I filled Mika in tonight.”

“So, practically no one.” I shake my head slowly. “I would lose my fucking mind.”

“It’s a little tricky sometimes, yeah.”

“I mean, I can’t even imagine.”

It would be like living in a world where people think I’m still dating Jordan Cohen. Actually, it’s worse. It’s a world where

everyone thinks I’m dating him and also his crypto rap went viral and now he has a full album dropping and he’s launching

his own line of high-end fedoras.

“Wow.” Mark blinks. “And now you have people asking you about him all the time.”

“Literally daily,” says Walter.

“Well, fuck that.” I punch my fist straight into my palm.

Walter laughs. “I mean, I have my go-to answers and stuff. It’s fine. I just, you know. I try to just talk about how talented

he is—because that’s true. He’s ridiculously talented. Or I’ll share an anecdote that’s basically true. Just—incomplete.”

He rubs his forehead. “I’m not ever trying to poke the bear, I guess. Plus, I’m sure people would find a way to turn it into,

like, proof of our undying passion.”

“Right.” I make a face. “They’ll be like, oh, he’s denying it. That proves he’s hiding something.”

Walter laughs. “Exactly. Like, they can’t even humor the idea that maybe, just maybe it wasn’t like that.”

“Did you ever want it to be?” The question leaps from my mouth before I can stop it.

“Did I want to date him?”

I face-palm. “Ignore me. Literally none of my business. I’m not—I promise I’m not—”

“You’re fine!” Walter smiles a little. “And honestly? No. He’s not—like, I’m just not attracted to him. I get why other people are, but—I don’t know. Maybe I knew him too well. Or I thought I did. He was my best friend.”

“Right. Yeah, no, totally. Makes sense. Dating your best friend is...”

“Normal?” Mark suggests.

“Well, yeah, but it’s risky.” My voice jumps. “Or—not risky . But it’s complicated. Seems complicated.”

“I think all dating is complicated,” says Walter.

For a moment, none of us speak.

“Well, I’ve got your back, okay?” I say, finally. “If you ever need someone to drop-kick anyone into the Pacific Ocean.”

Walter laughs. “You guys are the best.”

“You are!” I shake my head. “This is, like, the coolest thing ever. I’m so glad we got to hang out.”

“Okay, well, let’s get together sometime when we’re all back home, maybe?”

“I would fucking love that,” I say, glancing quickly at Mark. He’s nodding, mouth curved into a tiny half smile. Definitely not the face of a boy

who rips down Walter Holland Groupiemobile signs, but hey: never too late to develop some taste.

We cross the street, cutting through the path that winds up from the back of the building. Somehow, there are people in the

courtyard; we have to swerve around a group of shirtless guys tossing a Frisbee, like it’s not almost one in the morning.

The guys walk me all the way to the doors, hugging me goodnight before we part ways. It’s like the end credit scene of a movie.

Couldn’t have dreamed it better myself.